


hand to your heart

by adamantine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Keith (Voltron), Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Established Relationship, Inappropriate Use of Shiro (Voltron)'s Floating Hand, M/M, Sheith New Year, Top Keith (Voltron), for the record:, it's really both for keith, no those tags aren't a mistake, this fic doesn't give a shit about season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: Shiro’s prosthetic arm settles at his back and pushes lightly.Get on with it, his arm seems to say.It’s a fleeting moment but the feel of Shiro’s arm pushing him won’t leave his mind, not even as he takes Shiro apart. He feels it as Shiro writhes underneath him, calling his name. He feels it as Shiro falls asleep in his arms. He keeps feeling it, that small push at his back, until he finally understands what he wants from it.He’s just not sure how to ask Shiro.This was written for Day 5 (Free Day) of Sheith New Year :)





	hand to your heart

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is top AND bottom keith, trust me

The idea comes to Keith accidentally.

Keith fucks into Shiro slowly, knowing he wants and can take more but Keith isn’t going to give it to him, not yet at least. It’s too soon.

“Patience. Yields. Focus.” Keith gives a small teasing thrust for each word.

It’s not the first time he’s thrown Shiro’s mantra back at him when they’re fucking, and it won’t be the last. The response is too worth it.

Today, Shiro’s prosthetic arm settles at his back and pushes lightly.

_Get on with it,_  his arm seems to say.

It’s a fleeting moment but the feel of Shiro’s arm pushing him won’t leave his mind, not even as he takes Shiro apart. He feels it as Shiro writhes underneath him, calling his name. He feels it as Shiro falls asleep in his arms. He keeps feeling it, that small push at his back, until he finally understands what he wants from it.

He’s just not sure how to ask Shiro.

 

✨

Shiro’s hair takes on a warm glow in the soft light of their bedroom. Shiro always looks handsome but Keith thinks he looks especially handsome in their bedroom, and he’s not just saying that because Shiro sleeps shirtless. It’s more than that. He lets himself relax, lets go of his worries. He feels younger when they’re together like this.

Keith squints a little; the lights in their bedroom give Shiro a halo. He looks perfectly angelic, cherubic even if he wasn’t so buff. Keith, on the other hand, must look like a hot mess. He’s covered in sweat but not in a way that glistens like it does on Shiro. His hair doesn’t look lightly windblown but like something has been nesting in it. It’s unruly in a way that makes it obvious what he’s been up to. Once, Shiro wouldn’t stop laughing at him because two pieces—one on each side of his head—decided to stick up like devil horns. Shiro found it so funny he snapped a picture of it and made it Keith’s contact picture. Keith hates it. It isn’t fair. Angelic Shiro never looks like what he’s been doing.

The memory makes Keith pout as he kisses the palm of Shiro’s prosthetic hand.

“You’ve been paying a lot of attention to my hand lately.” Shiro watches him carefully.

“It’s a nice hand.” Keith stares into Shiro’s eyes as he takes a large metal finger into his mouth. His teeth grow sharp; he scrapes them against Shiro’s fingertip where the sensors are the strongest.

Shiro inhales sharply. “Just ask what you want to ask.” His eyes darken as Keith continues his explorations. “I can tell you want something.”

It’s not a demand—it’s an opening. It’s the bridge Keith needs to voice his desires. He isn’t usually shy about what he wants but this is different. It doesn’t feel like the kind of thing he can blurt out without an opening.

“I want you to fuck me with your hand while I fuck you.”

Shiro’s arm pulls away. It settles at his side, where it would be if it was attached to him. His jaw falls open. He stares at the wall.

Keith sits on his knees patiently, ignoring the restless feeling that dances through him. He can’t take back what he’s asked. It’s there, hanging between them.

“Christ, Keith, you can’t just—” Shiro flips over his hand and stares at it as if he’s seeing it for the first time. He flexes his fingers, sends his arm across the room and then brings it back to his side.

“How would that even work?” Shiro asks the question like Keith has made a startling new discovery that will rid the universe of all disease.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “I fuck you, and your hand fucks me. I’m sure what else there is to explain.”

“Wow—I—yeah.” Shiro is  _blushing_. It takes Keith by surprise. They’ve been together long enough that he isn’t expecting the purity of Shiro’s embarrassment. Shiro’s seen every inch of Keith and Keith has seen every inch of him. “Wow.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Keith folds his hands on his lap. If this is something Shiro is uncomfortable with, Keith isn’t going to press it. His fantasies don’t trump Shiro’s comfort, ever. “It’s just something I started to think about.”

“Yes,” Shiro says a little too fast. ”I want to, I mean.”

He stares at Shiro, tries to figure out if Shiro’s saying it just to make him happy. “You don’t need to do this just for me. I won’t pressure you if you say no.”

“God, Keith. Are you kidding? This isn’t just for you. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard.”

Keith was wrong. There’s nothing pure about the blush on Shiro’s cheeks. Shiro’s looking at him like he’s something to devour. It’s enough to convince him Shiro isn’t lying.

 

✨

In Keith’s imagination, he’s in total control. He fucks Shiro how he likes it while his hand works him from behind. It’s double the pleasure in the best way.

Keith begins to realize he might be overestimating himself when he freezes at the first curl of Shiro’s finger inside him while he’s trying to loosen Shiro up.

Shiro says nothing but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He looks entirely at ease sprawled on their bed in a way that makes Keith feel like he’s walked into a lion’s den.

Shiro gives his finger another curl.

“I can’t prep you if you keep doing that.” Keith tries to sound annoyed but his voice has a breathy whine to it.

“I have two hands, you know,” Shiro says. He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk. “If you need me to take over.”

Shiro’s used to multitasking; that’s Keith’s fatal miscalculation. It shouldn’t take him by surprise. Shiro’s held entire conversations with people while Keith was rutting into his arm in another room. Being spread open isn’t distracting for him like it is for Keith. Not in the same way. It’s not that he’s unaffected by it—he is, Keith can tell by the way he clenches around his fingers—he’s just capable of focusing on more than just that simple pleasure. He has practice.

“No need, I can handle it,” Keith lies. He can’t handle it but he isn’t going to let that stop him. He gives Shiro’s thighs a nice bite and gains a small boost of confidence when Shiro shudders.

He can totally do this.

He focuses on taking care of Shiro. It works until his eyes are drawn to Shiro’s cock, hard and leaking precum, and a jolt of desire destroys his precarious balance of attention. Shiro takes that moment to add another finger inside of him; the size of the prosthetic’s fingers makes it feel like he’s being stretched to his breaking point. He’s not really—he can handle so much more. One day he’ll get Shiro to truly test his limits. He can take all of it; it won’t break him. He’s so far been able to talk Shiro into using four fingers, but any more than that has him balking.

“You okay there?”

Keith tries to compose himself. He wonders if it’s obvious what he’s been thinking about. Shiro knows him too well sometimes. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He flexes his fingers inside of Shiro; it’s a tight fit but there’s an ease to it. “I think we’re both ready.”

Shiro’s hand is still inside of him as he slicks himself up. It must look strange, but when Keith pictures it—Shiro’s hand in his ass, floating patiently as Keith aligns himself—heat curls inside of him. The hand is overwhelming in its size. It nearly spans Keith’s waist at its thickest end.

Keith pushes in slowly and carefully, gauging Shiro’s reactions for any signs of pain. Satisfied he isn’t hurting Shiro he keeps going until he’s fully seated. He stops, overwhelmed by how tight Shiro feels around his cock. Even the prosthetic’s grip can’t replicate the perfect tightness of it.

He leans down and brings their lips together. Kissing Shiro calms him. It stops him from thinking about what he’s gotten himself into. Shiro is patient with him. He sucks on Keith’s bottom lip and deepens their kiss. Keith is content to keep going, basking in the familiar pleasure of Shiro’s tongue, but Shiro’s patience isn’t endless.

Shiro slides his fingers in and out of Keith so hard it makes Keith’s cock push deeper inside of him. Keith breaks away to moan.

He doesn’t know what to focus on. The tight heat around his cock, sucking him in? Or Shiro’s fingers slamming into him mercilessly?

“Oh, fuck.” Keith thinks he might be drooling.

Shiro makes a sound that’s not quite a laugh but is certainly in the same vicinity as one. He’s smug. Keith can see it in his eyes, his smirk, the way he wraps his legs around Keith.

Shiro’s legs guide him, encourage him to move. Keith does as he’s told and fucks into Shiro with everything he can. His nails turn to claws. He pulls them away, afraid of hurting Shiro, but Shiro grabs them and gives them a kiss before guiding them to his hips. Keith is certain they must hurt but if Shiro doesn’t mind the way they dig into his skin then so be it.

Shiro clenches around him and moans when Keith fucks into his sweet spot. It should be Shiro’s undoing but it turns into Keith’s instead.

Shiro’s hand grows completely impatient and picks up the pace. It fucks hard and fast at the perfect angle, not for Keith but  _for Shiro_. Keith is nothing but a conduit for Shiro’s pleasure. Every thrust of his arm has Keith’s cock fucking into him exactly where he wants. Keith is being used in both directions.

Keith struggles to hold himself up. His body feels like putty. He falls onto Shiro’s chest. He can barely move. He makes a feeble attempt to roll his hips. It doesn’t matter. Shiro’s arm is strong enough to fuck both of them. Every thrust has Keith rutting into Shiro, sending a double jolt of pleasure through Keith.

Shiro’s cock is trapped between them. It rubs against Keith’s stomach as Shiro’s hand fucks them. Keith wants it inside of him. The thought of Shiro’s cock and hand inside him makes him whine. He wants all of Shiro; he doesn’t care how impossible it is to have everything at once.

“Shiro. Shiro. Shiro,  _Shiro._ ” He says Shiro’s name like a prayer, and then a curse. Shiro’s halo is an illusion. He’s a devil like Keith. He just hides it better. Smiles politely on a video call while Keith’s lips are wrapped around his cock offscreen.

“You’re so good, Keith,” he says sincerely. Keith can’t imagine why. He’s not doing anything. It’s all Shiro.

He must say it out loud, or maybe Shiro can sense his objections because he keeps going. “You are, Keith. You feel so good inside of me. Everything I feel, it’s all thanks to you.”

It’s Shiro’s praise that breaks him.

Shiro fucks Keith through his orgasm, coming after him moments later.

When it’s over, Keith feels so fucked out he can’t move. Even pulling out of Shiro feels like a daunting task. He lets Shiro deal with it.

He whimpers when Shiro’s arm lifts him like it’s nothing to separate them. Keith can match Shiro in strength when he’s trying, but it doesn’t matter. His instincts still scream at Shiro’s display of strength. He wants that strength bearing down on him.

Keith uses Shiro’s chest as a pillow. He can hear Shiro’s heartbeat.

Shiro’s flesh hand brushes Keith’s hair. “I love you,” Shiro says simply. The evidence of that love is everywhere. It’s the boneless feeling in Keith’s limbs, the heartbeat thumping in his ears, the fingers stroking his hair.

Keith buries his face into Shiro’s chest and holds him tightly. He feels lucky to have this moment, to have Shiro’s time and attention, to feel Shiro’s love. It’s not something he takes for granted. Every moment he has with Shiro is a precious thing he savors.

A warm washcloth wipes between Keith’s legs. Shiro smiles. Shiro’s arm really is incredibly convenient.

“I love…” Keith pauses and lifts his head up to look at Shiro. “Your arm.”

“Only my arm?” Shiro questions, a quirk to his brow.

“And your ass.” Keith scrunches his face up in contemplation. He takes his time pretending to mull over his next answer. “Your cock too.”

Shiro frowns; there’s no fire to it. “I’m not sure I like the order of that.”

He pushes Keith off his chest. Keith lets out a string of curses in protest.

Shiro rolls his eyes as he cleans his come off Keith. “Brat.”

“Old timer,” Keith shoots back.

When Shiro’s done cleaning them up, Keith pulls him into his arms. They settle like that, Shiro’s back against Keith’s chest.

“I love you, Shiro.” His quiet declaration carries in the silence of their bedroom. He wants to say more, put into words how much Shiro means to him, but his eyelids grow heavy and he’s soon falling asleep. It’s fine. He has his whole life to keep reminding Shiro how much he loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> idc if no one else will love shiro's hand i will & that makes me stronger


End file.
